On Sick Leave
by WillowWinchester
Summary: A sick Dean Winchester one-shot (Sorry for the crappy title) NO SLASH


**I read a bunch of one shots about sick Dean, and I loved 'em all, so I decided to write one for myself. **

**This is my first piece of writing that I have published on here, so please, no hating. **

**Mild Language Included**

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><p>"You're such a bitch." Dean shoved his brother's prying hands away. "I don't need the pills if I'm already dying."<p>

"Dean, for God's sake," Sam's voice was appropriately irritated. Dean had been vexing him for hours now, and it was well into the early afternoon. "I already took your temperature, it's one hundred and one degrees. You are not dying."

"Sure as hell feels like it," Dean grumbled before collapsing into a fit of cringe-worthy coughs. His lungs felt like they were ready to explode out of his chest, and his throat had been on fire ever since he developed the fever. "Jesus, just let me sleep."

"Just...take the pills and _then _you can sleep." Sam suggested tentatively, brandishing the bottle. Usually if his brother was determined to not do something, it stuck. He was stubborn that way.

Dean glared at him momentarily, but then decided that he was too ill to fight Sam's commands. "Fine, whatever. But just leave me alone afterwards."

"Will do," Sam promised, rolling his eyes.

Dean grabbed the bottle and popped a few pills into his mouth before swallowing with difficulty. "Damn it," He swore as the pills triggered a new blaze of pain in his throat.

"I could have gotten you water for that..." Sam told him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean snapped. "Just leave now and stop hovering. Go check out that crime scene or whatever."

Sam sighed, extracting the EMF reader from his bag. "If you say so. I'll be back soon." He shrugged on his jacket and turned back towards Dean just before he closed the door behind him. "Take it easy."

"I will." Dean said abruptly, annoyance in his tone. "Now leave. Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied, grinning, before he slammed the door shut.

Dean collapsed into blissful unconsciousness.

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><p>When Dean opened his eyes again, the overwhelming wave of pain and heat rushed upon him, and he realized that Sam was sitting on the edge of his motel bed, aimlessly watching the television.<p>

"Sam." Dean rasped before a torrent of coughs escaped him. A vile taste invaded his mouth, and it took all of his willpower to stop himself from gagging in disgust. Because he knew that if he did, he would probably puke up his lungs.

"Good. You're up." Sam turned towards his brother. "I checked out the crime scene and interviewed the witness. I've been waiting to tell you about it."

Dean propped himself up on one elbow to listen, but he barely comprehended what Sam was telling him. His head had begun to pound relentlessly, and he fell back onto the pillow with a grunt of pain.

"Did you even hear what I just said?" Sam asked, concerned. He stood and headed towards Dean.

"Yes..." Dean responded. His brother gave him an unconvinced expression. "Okay, no. Sorry, but I'm the one who's sick here."

"It's no big deal," Sam replied. "You've slept for about...I don't know, four hours? Do you think you could eat something?"

Dean stared at Sam, almost feeling the nausea growing in his chest. "You're kidding."

"Well...no, but if you aren't up to it, then, never mind."

"I'm definitely not up to it." Dean answered, though, deep down, his non-sick side yearned for a cheeseburger.

Sam bit his lip, and strode to the bathroom sink, filling a clear plastic cup with water. "At least drink this," He said to his brother, proffering it to him.

After sitting up, Dean accepted it and downed the contents, temporary relief filling him as the cool liquid trickled down his throat, which had swelled up drastically while he'd been asleep. "Now leave me alone," Dean said to his brother, letting loose a tremendous cough that racked his lungs. "You're making me sicker than I already am."

"Fine," Sam replied, shaking his head in exasperation. "Just remember that _I'm _the one having to put up with you."

"Stop being a bitch," Dean muttered, irritated. He set the water cup aside and settled back down onto the cheap motel bed.

"You know, Dean, I can't get one word out most of the time without you regarding me as a bitch." Sam told him, although his tone was not sour.

"At least you've realized it," Dean joked drowsily. "You may be my pain in the ass little brother, but I've always had to take care of you. I never will stop taking care of you...even if I sure as hell want to."

"Dean, this cold you have is making you act pretty damn drunk. Is that even possible?"

"Shut up, Sam, I'm serious." Dean snapped.

"I know you are," Sam replied. "And I'm grateful. Just remember that even though _I'm _the little brother, I've gotta watch out for your ass, too."

"You can try," Dean mumbled. "It ain't gonna be easy."

"You think I don't know that?" Sam smirked. He waited for Dean's reply, but it never came. His brother's body went slack against the mattress, indicating that he had succumbed to his desire for sleep.

Sam stood and made his way back to his motel bed, shaking his head at Dean's stubbornness. It may be enough to ruffle Sam's feathers, but it was a part of his brother, and he wouldn't be Dean if he didn't have every aspect of his personality.

Dean may be an antagonizing pain the ass sometimes, but that was simply his brother.

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><p><strong>So, there you have it. <strong>

**Sorry, I feel like it's kind of a short one shot, but don't blame me, it's my first published piece of work on here. **

**I know it gets a little (okay, _a lot) _melodramatic, but, eh, I tried to tone it down a little. **

**Positive reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


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